Fear
by jojospn
Summary: SPOILERS for 9x18 "Meta Fiction". Dean thought he knew fear. Rated M for slight reference of torture.


**Fear**

**A/N: Slight spoilers for seasons 1-5, and major spoilers for 9x18, "Meta Fiction". Sadly, I don't own **_**Supernatural.**_** Sigh. Enjoy!**

There's a reason why he drives everywhere.

Sam gave him a rather sideways glance, one of slight amusement, surprise, even a brief hint of annoyance as he watched the pallor on his brother's face, the fear beneath bright green eyes; eyes that have stared into the face of death on many an occasion; had witnessed the horrible death of his mother, grieving families struggling to come to terms with just how _unnatural_ their loved ones' untimely demises were; that stared coldly at anything from ghouls to shapeshifters, and every supernatural fugly in between with a sense of calm, purpose; and, of course, a hint of that Dean Winchester bravado he had inherited as a teenager.

And so it surprised Sam to see his tough as nails, seemingly fearless older brother trying valiantly to hide the tremors as he accepted his ticket, boarded the (hopefully soon to be _not_ doomed) aircraft, and settle into his seat beside him. To hear him humming Metallica in hopes of calming his already well frayed nerves. And, to be honest, as much as Sam found his older brother's phobia relatively humorous, it also concerned him. Not only because of Dean's vulnerability to possession in his current state, but the fact that it _hurt_ to see him like that. The man who had protected him since infancy, who had always cared for him, sometimes even when Sam would have rather refused.

But Dean, for the first time, well, _ever,_ found himself to be truly frightened, to the point of incapacitation. As the plane went down, the young hunter was frozen in terror, helpless. It bothered him that he was proving to be useless in the hunt; the potential death toll (not including himself) was high, all innocent people. People who depended on the brothers to save the day. But, worse still, was Sam. Any wrong move, and this plane would crash, his kid brother with it. And that was something Dean Winchester would _never _allow.

But this fucking, all encompassing terror was getting the best of him. And that feeling of helplessness just seemed to make it worse...

XXX

Dean Winchester thought he knew fear.

He believed it to be the unsettling discomfort of flying, of not having that sense of complete control. When behind the wheel of his Baby, Dean felt that everything would be fine. He knew every detail, every sound, from the purr of the engine to the rattle of the Legos in the heater. There was comfort and safety whenever he was behind the wheel of his father's old '67 Impala.

Dean Winchester didn't know jack shit when it came to fear.

Because fear was looking into his little brother's eyes as the light slowly began to fade from them. Feeling that final flutter of a heartbeat against his chest before Sammy's body went limp in his arms. Fear was standing in a lonely crossroads, praying that the demon before him would accept his deal (one kiss, a soul for a soul). It was listening to the final chimes of the clock, waiting for it to strike midnight, and fearing that a sacrifice could be all for nought (_please, Sammy, stay strong. Live for me, little brother. I did this for you... Please..._) only to realize that your worst nightmare may be coming true in the form of grief induced manipulation (_Sammy, please don't go out that door. I need you... we're family_).

Fear was never about him.

XXX

Fear is now looking in a mirror.

Standing in the reflection, Dean sees the blood, the anger (_hatred)_ in his jade irises. No matter that Gadreel had stolen his brother from him (and from Sam himself); no matter that Kevin is now dead, that the rogue angel is working with Metatron. Gadreel is evil, perhaps nearly as much as Lucifer had been. And Dean tells himself over and over again that he deserves every punch, ever stab wound, all the pain he can inflict on him.

Dean hadn't thought of the man Gadreel is possessing, how this young man is likely as innocent as Sammy had been. He hadn't thought how, when he had spared his life not out of pity but out of pure torture, he had felt relief that he wouldn't have to hurt the man who is likely struggling to regain control of his senses.

Dean is becoming cruel, heartless. The monster he has always feared. A burning sensation on his forearm, followed by a glow, first dull, and then brighter, remind him of the power of the Mark. And as Dean rolls up his sleeve and eyes the ominous looking brand etched in his skin, he is once again reminded of who he may become. The fear intensifies; for a moment, the anger vanishes from his eyes. And as the eerie glow on his arm brightens further, Dean once again feels its control overwhelming him, like a powerful drug.

Because fear is the fact that Dean is about to become the man he had been in Hell, the once Alistair had trained like a vicious pet, ready for the kill. Dean closes his eyes, reaches for the angel blade.

And for one horrifying moment, all fear is gone.


End file.
